Tony has been part of my care team since 2020, and I truly don’t have enough words to explain what his presence has meant to me. He has walked alongside me through some of the darkest, most vulnerable moments of my life—through treatment, through transplant, through the fear and the unknown. And in all of it, he has never once made me feel like just a patient. He has always seen me as a person, a mother, someone worth remembering.

There’s a quiet strength in the way Tony cares. He listens. He remembers the details—like asking about my daughter by name. He knows how to bring calm to chaos, and how to make even the scariest days feel manageable. There’s never been a time I didn’t feel safe in his care. And when you’re fighting for your life, that kind of comfort is everything. Over the last five years, he’s seen me at my weakest and never treated me like I was broken. He has cheered for me, encouraged me, and helped me believe in my own healing. He has been a steady, compassionate presence through it all. A large healthcare system can often feel cold or clinical; Tony brings warmth, heart, and humanity. He is one of the few people who makes me feel truly seen—and that kind of care stays with you long after the IVs and scans are gone. Tony is the kind of nurse you never forget. The kind of nurse who changes lives.